“His back was towards me,” Anna said. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. “It was,” she admitted. “I am lonely. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things. ’ ‘I imagine it must be a relief to you, after so lucky an escape. Don’t take revenge on him because I’ve wronged you.
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